


To Watch Us Die

by rainyrocket



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Confusion, M/M, Psychological Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-21
Updated: 2011-05-21
Packaged: 2017-10-19 16:21:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/202832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainyrocket/pseuds/rainyrocket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back in the day, Tessa tried to reap Sam too, on 4x15 she kisses Sam as well, and he remembers staying by his brother's side in Cold Oak as he grieved his death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Watch Us Die

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Back in the day, Tessa tried to reap Sam too, on 4x15 she kisses Sam as well, and he remembers staying by his brother's side in Cold Oak as he grieved his death. Prompt from the last spn_kink meme at LJ.  
> Spoilers: let's say Season Five to be save  
> Rating: NC-17, Mature, Adult, whatever you call it  
> Word Count: 1,527  
> Disclaimer: Not mine, wasn't the one who killed them either.

**TO WATCH US DIE**   
_A Supernatural Fan Fiction_   
_written by rainyrocket_

 

 

Sometimes, in decaying nights, she is with him. The shadow of her bones rattling in tact with the snapping of his spinal cord. There is blood, there is Dean, then there’s nothing. His clothes move as his skin breathes, she is with him, and sometimes he wants to tell Dean, but he can’t, Dean’s the one who spills, Sam’s the one who snaps. A story as old as time and Tessa knows. Knows it and shows it with a kiss on his dry, lying lips. Her tongue is carrying a taste of Dean, and Sam thinks she must have had him, but she never got him. A rhyme settles in his head, crash, boom, bang, Dean’s knocking on heaven’s door, Dean’s back again. And isn’t that the most ridiculous thing?

Sam struggles against Tessa’s tongue, he had death for supper since he was six months old, he doesn’t need a reaper to put his own on the plate. Tessa holds on to him, cups his face between her hands and it’s only pain when the rough tip of her tongue goes up to his brain, releasing a world painted in red.

  _o_  ~ o ~ o ~ o

His time has come, the bell’s tolling his name, calling for him, calling for Sammy. It’s a nearby ring, a nearby --

 _dong_

\-- Sam is kneeling in the mud --

 _dong_

\-- rain is falling through him, invisible poor little Sammy --

 _dong_

"Dean ... "

\-- he is alone, he yells --

"Dean ... "

 _dong_

\-- the moon sets, Sam cries, hours flash behind his back, Sam cries, because he knows the pain to come, Tessa, he doesn’t know her name, a woman, dark haired, dark eyed, a demon, a reaper, Tessa, he knows her name, she asks him to go with her. He sees Ash, wearing a mask, playing the dark avenger, offering Sam a beer and Sam says no, to Ash, to Tessa. The sun rises, his black and white appearance now yellow, now orange, now red, now blood; the shortest trip to Pleasantville one ever made.

Sam is bleeding, feels Dean leaving, Sam is screaming as the bell keeps on calling his name, faster --

"Sammy ...."

\-- faster.

 _dongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdong_   
_dongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdong_   
_dongdongdongdongdongdongdongdongdong_

He wants to cover his ears, but his head is gone. The tolling bell breaks into a screech, fingernails on a chalkboard, an 80s horror movie, Freddy Krueger dressed up as Yellow Eyes.

 _dongdongdongdongdongdongDONGDONGDONG!!DONG!!!!!DONG!!!!!!!!!DONG!!!!!!!!!!!DONGDONGDONG!!!!!!!!!DONGDONG!!!!!!!!!!!!DONGDONGDONGDONG!!!!!!DONGDONGDONG!!!DONG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!DONGDONGDONGDONGDONG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

His ears begin to bleed and Dean’s hurrying away with Sam’s shell, a dead weight under vanishing sunlight and pain is calling him from under moldy shadows lining a run down cabin.

"Dean," Sam says, it’s a rasp that gets raspier as he falls forward, through a chair as Bobby falls through him, pushed by Dean. Sam can’t hear their voices, can’t hear anything but the slow tolling of the bell. But Dean is there, Dean can beat death. Dean can get into the reaper’s pants with a cheap line, seduce her into letting Sam go, or simply kill her.

Sam smiles and Bobby leaves.

"Did I do something? Bobby, what’s goin’ on?"

 _dong_

Dean steps into Sam, he puts his hands on the back of a chair and inhales Sam’s ghost.

 _dong_

Sam shivers and Dean’s tears drop through him, cleaning his stained soul.

"Dean?"

 _dong_

"I’m here, I’m with you."

Sam tries to touch Dean, falling apart, him or Dean, or both or --

 _dong_

It was Tessa, telling him to go, telling him he can’t stay, going, not staying, over and over again.

Sam yells at her, tells her to shut up, to leave, to leave leave leaveleaveleaveleaveleave ... but Dean leaves, Sam’s own personal death is still waiting around the corner by his death bed.

"Dean ... "

Dean’s sitting next to Sam’s body, broken and beaten.

Sam’s dead. Tessa’s lurking. Dean’s alone.

 _dong_

o ~ o ~ o ~ o

"Go away," Sam says.

"Go away," Tessa says.

"No, I won’t."

 _dong_

Sam sits down on his bed, tries to crawl back into his body, the mattress solid beneath him and he moves his left arm, lifts his hand to wave at his brother, to flip the reaper the bird.

 _dong_

He’s on the floor, dust bunnies are on his eyes.

"That never works," Tessa says, she’s annoyed, she wants to move on, there are more souls to reap than little Sammy Winchesters.

Sam sneezes and what comes out is black and grossly squishy.

"Ectoplasm ... "

 _dong_

"It’s getting late, Sam."

 _dong_

Sam moves through the bed, kneels down in front of Dean.

"He can have a happy life now," Tessa says.

"He can enjoy life, he will forget you, he won’t remember what you had."

"Why are you sayin’ this?"

"Because this is what you want to hear."

"No, no."

He straightens his back, bends forward, so he is face to face with Dean. There lips are close and Sam whispers Dean’s name.

 _dong_

"Everyone you love suffers."

 _dong_

"Shut up, bitch"

 _dong_

"It’s better you leave everyone behind, leave, Sam."

 _dong_

Sam’s dead, his brother is not.

"Would you go with her, Dean? Would you?"

His lips brush Dean’s ear, breath a kiss on it, move through it.

"This is no life, Sam," Tessa says.

"Dean, what am I supposed to do?"

His body smells of Dean, their last love-making still in the backseat of his mind, their combined come still in the backseat of the Impala. Drizzle fell into the car, they left the windows open, they didn’t care, their bodies were sweating, the Impala was squeaking, they were together. Dean on Sam, pushing hard, Sam biting into the seat, hushing his cries, the night might be dead, but they were on a public parking lot. Dean kissed Sam from behind, on the soft, hard spot between his neck and shoulder, pressing his face deeper into the seat.

 _dong_

Buzz killing tolling bell.

"Your time is up," Tessa says.

 _dong_

"Dean."

Sam’s hands rest next to Dean’s head, hanging in mid-air, waiting for the estranged puppet master to direct them.

"You want me to get some pie and extra onions?"

Dean’s lips stop moving, there where moving almost non-stop since he sat down, talked and curled, now, nothing, the calm before the infamous storm.

 _dong_

"Dean?"

 _dong_

"Dean, come on, what am I supposed to do?"

o ~ o ~ o ~ o

Dean’s up and trashing the chair, he yells at Sam’s body and leaves, he runs away and leaves Sam and Sam screams his brother’s name.

 _DONG_

"You’re alone," Tessa says.

 _DONG_

A rope ties his arms to his body, ties his legs together --

"You’re truly alone."

 _DONGDONGDONG_

Tessa’s gone, a hole cracks the floorboards up, black smoke, buzzing with purple energy sucks him down, so deep, so fast he loses consciousness.

o ~ o ~ o ~ o

His clothes are gone, the ropes aren’t, Sam sits against the stone wall, on the stone floor in his damp and cold prison, there is light coming from above, but he can’t make out the ceiling.

"What is this?" he asks and his father, John Winchester, from the dead Winchesters, answers.

"It’s too late, Sammy, the demons got you."

Pause.

"They always were after you, you know."

"Dad, what is this?"

"You said no to heaven."

"You scaring me, Dad."

John kneels down. The room is small, traps them both like guinea pigs in a laboratory run by Lucifer.

"No reason to be scared."

He gets a long piece of cloth out of his back-pocket and ties it around Sam’s head, gags him.

"Shhh, Dean’ll get you outta here."

"Whemeer?"

"This is the bad part of hell, Sammy. In a year Dean will beg to get here, but he won’t, they got plans for him, and for you."

Sam shifts, the corners of his mouth bleed, tight gag, snug ropes. John talks and talks and it makes no sense; little bubbles come out of his mouth, ears, eyes, and Sam laughs, the gag ripping into his skin.

"Sammy, are you on something? Did you already start shooting up?"

No sense at all. No hearing at all. No feeling --

The smoke is back, flying around Sam, looking for his mouth to enter. It’s sealed and John grins.

"Couldn’t make too easy for you sons of bitches."

The black clouds of the smoke wrap themselves around Sam’s body, whirl him into the air, lightning thunders through the room, hits John several times, until he turns to smoke. The smoke monster turns Sam upside down, thinking if you can’t get in through the front, use the backdoor. Sam screams, gag-muffled, as the demon yanks every part of him upwards, into the darkness.

o ~ o ~ o ~ o

Sam wakes up with a question mark on his face; his back hurts and he’s lying on a greasy mattress. It smells like stale corpse wherever he is. He’s searching the room with his eyes, bed, chair, table, kitchen cabinet, empty bottles, a pizza box, and a brown bag. That’s it. He is alone.

 _dong_

 

 

 **THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> I would have called the story "For Whom the Bell tolls" but darn Hemingway was faster, Sam's state of mind is very ... fragile in this one, or close to fragile, it's not always straightforward thinking, okay I admit when have the boys ever done that ;) but seriously I hope it got across like I intended it to, a wild mix of memories and emotion and confusion, and being lost, not know what's what, and what's real, and having troubles to interact, the boys with each other ... ah well, I guess it got a little bit sad, but hey that was the prompt, I hope lol


End file.
